Lost and Found
by KnightRogue
Summary: Ghosts of the past collide with ghosts of the future in the hallways of Wayne Manor.


Lost and Found  
By KnightRogue  
  
  
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Batman, Batman Beyond and all related characters and concepts are owned by Warner Brother and DC Comics. No profit is being made from this work and no infringement is in anyway intended.   
  
Author's Note: This story was inspired by the story "Back in Time" by Casey Toh. It's an awesome story, so if you haven't read it, you need to! Yes, it's a Terry and Max. Yes, they're just very good friends. Yes, there's no Dana. Also thanks to everyone who gave such wonderful reviews for my other stories. The gestures of sympathy were greatly appreciated.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The first sign that something was wrong was the heat waves shimmering up from the concrete walk, distorting the sunlight shining onto the front door of the Manor. Such a common occurrence wouldn't have rated a second thought, and indeed it did not register on the conscious mind. Approaching the door, the shimmer did not recede, nor was the day that warm. The mystery was puzzling, but not one to penetrate through the frustrations of a typical school day or the ongoing discussion of the night's activities ahead. To the two walking up to the anomaly, the conversation was intense enough to ignore. Security measures read their retinal scans and face recognition software did its duty to release the main locks before the pair reached the portal. Even the act of coding in the final lock was normal enough, but in retrospect was remembered as a cold sensation from a keypad that had been facing the sun throughout the day. The door opened as normal, and then the world changed.  
Proving that chivalry was not dead, Terry opened the door and gestured Max through it. That in itself was not unusual, it happened every day. The entrance way looked the same. The stairs, the furniture, it all looked normal enough not to cause comment. As they moved into more shadow recesses of the hall, a voice called out from above.  
"Is that you, Master Tim?"  
Terry blinked and looked at Max, who returned his wide-eyed stare.  
A swinging door banged open from the other end of the hall and a short figure dashed across the polished floor, unaware of the visitors standing there. Socked feet slid at the foot of the stairs and a hand grasp on the balustrade redirected his forward motion. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, the boy answered in the affirmative.   
Staring with the incredulity of the stunned, Max started at the sound of two other voices joining the twosome now upstairs. Gesturing with her hand for Terry to stand guard at the foot of the stairs, Max acted with an instinct that was as ridiculous, given the surroundings, as it was unavoidable. She crept back to the front door and with a shake of her head as an attempt to clear the sight before her, she quietly eased the front door open and stared out, then back in again. Terry looked as shocked as she appeared. With a negative nod of Max's head, he looked intently around at the interior decor.   
"Front door's open"  
"Please make certain to secure the doors after you enter, Master Tim."  
"But I shut it!"  
An older voice teased the younger in return. "He's right Alfred. Tim slams doors and sneaks around like a herd of elephants. Bruce obviously needs to work with him on his subtlety skills."  
Teenage pride had been pricked and retaliation was clearly called for. With a cry, the attack began and returning laughter joined in. Front door forgotten by the wrestling pair, the older man sighed and descended the stairs to deal with the immediate problem. The wrestling match above was stopped instantly with a quiet word from a Voice of Authority.   
Hidden back in the shadows, Terry and Max jumped at the sound of that voice emanating from the top of the stairs. Again, instinct caused them to retreat. By creeping silently from room to room, the pair managed to follow and elude the foursome invading the house they were so familiar with. Antique furniture scattered throughout made excellent hiding places for Max and Terry to observe the strangers.  
Except they weren't. Or rather, they were, but they weren't. Familiar images and voices were evident, but greatly altered, as if the past had returned to haunt the present.   
Three figures split off from the group and headed for the entrance of a place Terry knew better than his own room at home. As the others trouped off, the older gentleman returned to the room where Max and Terry were hidden. Pausing to pick up a stray piece of clothing or dust off an already immaculate desk, he strove to return order from chaos.   
More certain of whom he was dealing with, if not precisely certain why, Terry stepped out from behind the large curio cabinet. As the light from the window streamed around him, framing Terry in a cloud of glittering dust motes, the gentleman seemed to ignore him and continued on with his cleaning. Terry cleared his throat and stepped forward, intent on introductions. Those were as lost in his throat as his hesitant "Hi" seemed to lose itself in the vastness of the room and dissipate into the reaches of the vaulted ceiling. Max too, crept out from behind a cluster of high-backed chairs and reached out as if touch the older man on the sleeve.   
Duty complete, the gentleman made to leave the room. Turning back to close the double French doors, he glanced back into the room and paused, as if for the first time seeing the twosome illuminated by the late afternoon sun. Looking away, he blinked, and looked again at a pair of figures that might have better been seen clearly from the corner of the eye. Shaking his head slightly to clear it from a sight that could not be seen, he pulled the doors shut, leaving Terry and Max to hear the echoes of his footsteps as they disappeared down the passageway.   
"Who was that?" Max whispered in the growing gloom.  
"Alfred, I think" came Terry's puzzled reply.  
"So who are the ghosts here? Them? Or us?"  
  
  
TBC 


End file.
